


Only Good Things (I Promise)

by heartstarmagick



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: (that good shit), Blow Jobs, M/M, Mosaic Timeline, PWP, Teasing, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 00:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19346125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartstarmagick/pseuds/heartstarmagick
Summary: Short but sweet, Eliot & Quentin indulge each other.--Eliot doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until he feels Quentin’s hands unbuttoning his shirt and stroking his chest gently, eyes slowly opening to catch the reverence painted across Quentin’s features that Eliot’s not sure he deserves.





	Only Good Things (I Promise)

**Author's Note:**

> I read a review of the books that called Eliot "sexually twisted" and I got mad so enjoy lmao

Eliot wished they were a little cleaner, but frankly the setting could not be any more sublime.

They had set up their bed outside tonight, because it was so beautiful out. With the fire and candles going, it felt like a dream. Even more dreamy was Quentin in his lap, talking softly to him about all the things he wanted to get up to when they were back home. Eliot in true fashion was being as distracting as humanly possible.

“I’ve never tried a bath bomb,” he sighs out as Eliot’s fingers dip below the hemline of his shirt, tracing gentle little patterns along the top of his hip.

“Yeah? What kind would you want to try?”

“One of the— _ah_ , something, maybe uhh,” Quentin’s blushing as Eliot’s now-calloused hand grazes over ribs and stops to rub ever-so-teasingly over a hardening nipple. Eliot smiles and kisses his cheek. “I-I really like euca-lyptus,” he continues, a small panted sigh in the middle of the last word.

Eliot’s magic fingers make their way back down, rubbing over Quentin’s gentle, hairy abs. “Just eucalyptus? No lavender or anything?”

“I’m not a-actually that into lavender,” he answers, only shuddering a little. “Maybe— _fuck_ …” he closes his eyes, suppressing a moan and trying to catch his breath as Eliot works just underneath the fabric of his waistband. The skin was more sensitive than Quentin would have _ever_  bargained for to begin with, but the touch coupled with it being so close to where every desire he’d had for the last year was pooled almost made it impossible for him to speak.

“Maybe what?” Eliot asks innocently, kissing Quentin’s neck (which only makes it that much harder for him to keep from losing it.)

“Lemon,” was the only thing he could get out, in a ragged little whisper.

“Clean scents?” There’s almost a wicked grin across Eliot’s features as he feels Quentin squirm for more contact.

“Yeah, y-yeah yes, _Eliot_ ,” and Quentin’s _moaning_  right in his ear as his hand moves past fabric to stroke Quentin’s hardness in full—Eliot just couldn’t bear to be teasing him like this anymore, especially not with those moans coming from his mouth. He _loves_  the way his own name got caught in Quentin’s throat, Eliot was pretty sure he could make a home in that.

It takes all of six strokes before Quentin’s blushing deeply and “ _Oh God_ ”-ing and exploding all over Eliot’s working hand.

“F-fuck, I’m so sorry,” Quentin breathes out, panting hard like he just saw stars.

Eliot smirks, giving the hand in question a sultry lick that almost has Quentin moaning all over again. “Why are you sorry?”

“I-I wanted to, you know, _last_  longer.”

He’s still blushing and Eliot’s absolutely enamored. “You know we have _all night_ , right? Practically an eternity to go again.” Quentin gives him a look—the ‘I’m giving this some thought and you’re right’ look—and it makes Eliot smile again, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It’s okay to let yourself feel good things. That’s what I was hoping would happen.”

“I’m not—I-I just mean I don’t usually— _go first_ , and not so fast either, it usually takes me—ah, longer.”

“Isn’t that just a testament to how good I am?” Eliot doesn’t want Quentin to feel bad or weird about this. He’d been there before, he knows it can be a little bruising to the ego. Besides, now that they were officially on the same page about _doing this_  he’s sure as hell going to make Quentin comfortable every step of the way. Nothing but good things for them both from now on.

Quentin takes a breath, nodding, “Okay, ah, okay. You’re right, but you _know_  you don’t need me to say it.” He pulls Eliot into a deep kiss that leaves him completely breathless.

Quentin kind of had that effect on him in general.

When it feels right, Quentin only breaks their kiss to lay gentle ones on Eliot’s neck (which makes dark lashes flutter closed, a soft moan escaping that Quentin absolutely delights in.) “I want to make you feel good too,” Quentin said softly, nibbling Eliot’s earlobe gently.

“You want me in your lap?”

Adorably, Quentin bites his lip, “N-no, I want something else…”

Eliot’s eyebrows raise and he smiles, “What would my sweet Quentin like from me?”

“Lay back,” he answers, returning the little smile and gently pressing on Eliot’s chest. Obviously, Eliot’s not about to say no to that and easily makes himself comfortable on the bed as Quentin shifts to straddle him properly. Eliot doesn’t realize his eyes are closed until he feels Quentin’s hands unbuttoning his shirt and stroking his chest gently, eyes slowly opening to catch the reverence painted across Quentin’s features that Eliot’s not sure he deserves.

Everything about this is a far cry from the night they spent together years back that Eliot only half-remembers. He’s getting a little heady as Quentin makes his way down, pressing gentle little kisses to the newly-revealed skin. Eliot finds his hand tangled in Quentin’s hair, muscle memory or maybe just regular memory reminding him that he likes little pulls to it, drawing a breathy little moan from the other despite the fact that he just came. Eliot always meant to overwhelm him with goodness like this.

As Quentin reaches the button to his pants, Eliot can feel his breath quickening. Obviously he hadn’t been touched by anyone else in well over a year; the careful tug on his zipper is enough to make his heart feel like it’s racing out of his chest, and his length impossibly hard (though already he was pretty close.)

It must be showing on his face because when Eliot looks at Quentin once again, there’s just a warm and knowing smile. After what feels like forever, Eliot’s pants are on the ground and from the waist down he’s covered in nothing but Quentin’s _hungry_ gaze. “My dreams have a good memory.”

“You’ve had sex dreams about me?”

“Lots.”

Eliot smirks, “I would have proposed this a lot sooner if you had told me.”

“The timing wasn’t ever really…you know,” Quentin speaks as he’s stroking Eliot’s thighs, drawing more soft and happy noises from him. Without any prelude whatsoever, Quentin leans down and takes Eliot into his mouth and Eliot swears he sees stars.

Quentin’s not quite able to get hard again, but the way Eliot moans his name makes him shiver all over. Vaguely he could recall what Eliot liked that night and tries to recreate it but he’s mostly going off of what feels good to him; touches on his thighs, firmly stroking over his hip, alternating between licking over the head and savoring the precum and sucking him in as deeply as he possibly could (that move in particular has Eliot making some _really_ delicious noises.)

It’s not long at all before Eliot just about loses it, voice breaking and begging Quentin not to stop. They both know Quentin wouldn’t even dream of it, stray hair falling from behind his ears and tickling Eliot’s skin in a way that feels like it sparks electricity.

“Quentin…” His mouth is just so _good_ , Eliot’s almost upset for every missed chance between them but immediately puts that away from him. That doesn’t matter; all that matters right now is every chance ahead of them for touch and taste and _feeling_.

He’s barely able to control himself as he’s flying off the edge and cumming hard, hard, _hard_ down that lovely throat with a completely unrestrained set of moans that vaguely sound like the prayer version of Quentin’s name. Eliot doesn’t even know how long he’s off planet Earth, only coming back down when he feels Quentin’s familiar form curl up close to him and kiss him gently on the cheek, “I think we might have to do that again very soon,” he said with _that_ smile that melted Eliot every single fucking time.

“I think you’re right,” Eliot says softly, an air of vulnerability in the tone that he can tell Quentin doesn’t expect. Eliot strokes over his cheek delicately, leaning and stealing a proper kiss from his lips.

“Maybe we can find some lemon and eucalyptus. Make our own special bath in the basin.”

“You think we’ll fit?” Eliot was doubtful given the length of his legs.

It just makes Quentin smirk, “ _Trying_ would at least be a lot of fun. You can sit on my lap this time.”


End file.
